Irrelevance
by Adari
Summary: A series of one-shots, which may or may not be considered connected, from a world where Harry Potter did not turn off his brain when sorted into Gryffindor. Usually Harry, but not always.
1. Chapter 1

You want to blame something for this? Blame sleep-deprived braincells and a brain which has a tendancy to focus on the most obscure oddities. These are randoms things either from canon, or fanfic, that...well let's just call it an accident and leave it at that. Some are 'serious' and others are diabolical abominations which endanger sanity. Totally not my fault since you've chosen to read.

Do enjoy :)

**Irrelevance**

"Do you want it?" The sudden question from Harry startled Ron out of his focus on the chess-board. Harry had been totally silent for the past three days and hadn't seemed interested in speaking any time soon.

"Huh?" Ron blinked his total confusion over the question.

"What was in the mirror." Harry made an abrupt move and then sat back.

"This some new way of trying to win?" Ron was confused and not ashamed to admit it.

"No." Harry cast a speaking glance at the board which spoke of humiliating defeat.

"Err." Ron studied the board for a long moment and then glanced at Harry. "What did you mean by asking if I want it followed by something about the mirror?"

"Mirror of Erised...it shows you what you want." Harry hugged his knees as his King forfeited the game without permission, apparently even his pieces considered the defeat too humiliating to wait for. "Do you want that? Too be Head Boy and Quidditch Captain."

"Well..." Ron had gone red.

"Should be doable...but it'll take work." Harry reset his pieces and ignored their wails and despairing moans. "Need a plan?"

"Plan?" Ron looked almost alarmed.

"Like chess...heard you can be Headboy without being prefect, but your chances are better if you've been a prefect. You've a one in five chance of getting prefect and I don't think Neville, Dean or Seamus are even vaguely interested."

"You're the Boy-who-Lived." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well my current detention record will be against my forgot-to-die rep." Harry gave a shrug. "Not saying you've got to pull a Percy...but it can't hurt to try a little harder than we do and it would make Hermione happy."

"Quidditch?"

"Wood's going to be captain until he finishes...rest of the team is younger than him so you probably can't get on the team until fifth year unless someone gets hurt...captaincy will probably go to one of the chasers at that point...she'll be captain for the year with a new keeper...next year she'll be gone, along with the other two and your brothers..." Harry winced. "Quidditch is going to be hell in sixth year."

"Not if we get reserves going now." Ron was suddenly looking around the commonroom. "Harry, you've got to introduce me to Wood, he's the only one who can talk about this."

"Fine." Harry headed across the commonroom to where Wood seemed to be trying to pull his hair out. "Wood."

"Potter...what's up?" Wood seemed more than happy to shove his work aside.

"This is Ron, he's my friend."

"Weasley." Wood's nod was polite, but his expression was rather wary now.

"We were discussing quidditch and he had an idea he says has to go through you."

"Weasley?" Wariness was now tinged with curiousity.

"Harry was bemoaning the fact that you'd graduate at the end of our third year and the rest of the team but Harry would probably graduate at the end of our fifth." Ron shifted uneasily, he was beginning to be worried.

"You'll be in for some bad years." Wood nodded, but his expression was rather pained.

"Not if we run a reserve team or two."

"You interest me, Weasley." Wood had straightened abruptly. "Sit down, get comfortable and start talking."

"We have a single flying class in first year and then there's absolutely nothing unless you get lucky with the Quidditch team...current team is not going to change for the next four years unless someone gets badly hurt or pulls a Percy."

"I'll skin'em if they do." Wood's tone made the words a promise, not a threat.

"Yeah, but with nothing happening for four years, no one's going to try or anything so the team is going to be more than horrible in five years. I figure the House can field some sort of reserve team, which gives the real team someone to train against...something for the rest of the house to train for and means we won't be stranded come sixth year."

"What's to stop the reserve team going like the current team and getting settled?"

"Make it only open to fourth year and below...fourth year or below, can't be on, or have been on the house team. Reserves train at the same time as the house team and once a month the rest of the house have to throw together a team to play against the reserves...which will occur after an open training session with the house and reserve teams. Get the reserves used to playing the unexpected.

"Current fourth years are completely useless and the thirds are pretty much all on the team already. Seconds are completely useless as well...shocking batch of swots. You think there's anything in the firsts?"

"Give Neville confidence and I think he'll make a beater..." Harry glanced at Ron. "You saw him last game when he pounded Malfoy? I think it's just confidence."

"A beater doesn't make a team and Potter is mine."

"Dean said he's no good at defence in that football game of his...Seamus as beater two?" Ron seemed hesitant.

"You'll have a job persuading any of the girls to help." Harry pulled a face. "Hermione hates flying and Parvati and Lavender?"

"I reckon they'll be not bad if they get going." Ron glanced at Wood. "Willing to play without Seekers?"

"You've got to find them somewhere." Wood's tone was flat, but not actively discouraging.

"They can be there...need a reserve Seeker anyway..."

"Dean's the only person who even looks like he might find a snitch." Harry grimaced slightly. "You go Keeper, Ron, got a better chance of persuading the girls to play chaser than keeper...or see if Dean will consider Keeper, put Hermione on the snitch and you can bully the two princesses into reasonable form with a quaffle."

"Weasley, if you can field a team we'll help bash 'em into shape and be grateful for people to practice against...if you can't get the girls to help, see what our chasers say for possibles below fourth year."

"Let's get Neville...Dean and Seamus we can collar after the holiday." Ron was on his feet and dragging Harry away. "We can borrow school brooms and just throw a ball between us. This is Quidditch!" Neville's fear and nerves did not last long faced by Ron with a mission in mind and though he wasn't likely to make the team ever, he was competent enough to enjoy a game of quidditch.

**XXXXXX**


	2. Chapter 2

"Mr Potter, where are you going?" McGonagal's voice shocked the school into silence.

"My dormitory." Harry's chin was up. "I refuse to be part of such a cheat as this."

"Cheat, Mr Potter?" Dumbledore seemed more than a little curious.

"You said the final points were..." Harry gave an uneasy shrug. "The final points should stand as you announce them. You can't call final points then go 'oops' assign more points to one house and change who won the cup. It isn't fair. It's a cheat and I won't be party to it." Harry stomped off, unaware that Ron had quickly marshalled the rest of the first years to follow suit. The loss of all Gryffindor first years soon made the decision for the upper years and within a minute all of Gryffindor House had left the Great Hall, as had most of Hufflepuff House. The Ravenclaws were clearly uneasy and the Slytherins were looking to their head of house.

"Albus?" Snape's eyebrow was lifted.

"The points stand." Dumbledore's jaw was set.

"Very well, Headmaster." Snape flicked his fingers and was satisfied to see his entire house depart for the commonroom in orderly formation. "If you'll excuse me, I have to deal with my house." Snape was gone with a swirl of his robes and the rest of the staff were left looking at barely a quarter of the student population. McGonagal abruptly rose and headed for the Gryffindor Commonroom, she needed to figure out what was happening before her authority was completely undermined.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagal found her house in the commonroom in quiet clusters.

"We're Gryffindor." Ron stepped forward with only a slight shove from Harry. "We stand for what is honourable and what is right." Ron took an unsteady breath but held his ground. "Neville's points were good and right...even a reasonable number for what he did. Neville's points stand, but Harry and I will not accept our points."

"Why not, Mr Weasley?" McGonagal had to stomp on her temptation to yell at the boy, there had to be a reason for why such a stand was being taken.

"For being out after curfew the penalty is fifty points each...or at least that's what it was back at Easter. Harry and I were out after curfew. For fighting a housemate, five point deduction each. For being on the third floor corridor...penalty has to be at least fifty points each as it was out of bounds even when curfew was not in effect. We didn't keep the dog out for long enough and he destroyed the trapdoor. Destruction of Devil's Snare has to be a fair number of points as well. The chess reset itself so no fault and the troll wasn't us. You can't get past the fact that Harry destroyed the Philosopher's stone though. That's someone else's personal property which was within the school for safekeeping. We may have been given 50 and 60 points respectively, but we've lost triple that and more in rule-breaking and property destruction. Neither Harry nor I want to be expelled, but we won't stand to be rewarded for being idiots. Give Neville his ten points for doing what was right and otherwise let the points stand...we can defeat the Slyths in the house cup and the quidditch cup next year."

"I see." McGonagal looked around her lions, they'd been willing and happy to win until Potter had made his stand, that Weasley had persuaded all the first years to back the stand had carried the house.

"The Headmaster has stated that the Gryffindor win stands."

"Go tell Professor Snape, on behalf of Gryffindor House, that we do not recognise this win. Slytherin holds the house and quidditch cup for this year...they will eat our dust next year." Bevins was the sixth year prefect and he'd stepped forward to back Ron when he fully comprehended what the firsties were arguing, which had been when the third floor corridor had been mentioned.

"Do you speak for Gryffindor?"

"I bloody well better because we never were in the running to win the house cup, even with the 150 point loss at Easter, and Potter's the idiot who cost us the quidditch cup...though Granger wasn't bad for a reserve who refuses to admit she's the reserve seeker."

"I..." Whatever Hermione had been going to object was lost in the sudden rumble of noise and McGonagal soon found herself heading for the Slytherin commonroom confident that she'd have a total riot on her hands if she didn't play ambassador to the Slytherins.

"Minerva?" Snape had his snakes in the commonroom, they were quiet and apparently she'd disturbed a housemeeting.

"I'm apparently an ambassador." McGonagal gave a small shake of her head. "To quote my sixth year prefect 'Go tell Professor Snape, on behalf of Gryffindor House, that we do not recognise this win. Slytherin holds the house and quidditch cups of this year...they will eat our dust next year."

"Why don't they recognise the win?" Higgs, sixth year prefect, clearly stepping forward in preparation for next year.

"I asked Bevins if he spoke for Gryffindor and hs reply was 'I bloody well better because we never were in the running to win the house cup, even with the 150 point loss at Easter, and Potter's the idiot who cost us the quidditch cup, though Granger wasn't bad for a reserve who refuses to admit she's a reserve.' The response from the house in general supported that statement and I left them split between discussing quidditch and riot plans if I didn't oblige as an ambassador."

"Slytherin accepts...and we'll see next year who's eating dust." Higgs spoke firmly, but not before he'd looked to Snape, he wasn't stupid enough to act against Snape.

"Was it Potter who led this?" Snape's tone was suspicious.

"Mr Potter hasn't spoken since he left the hall." McGonagal gave a shrug. "Mr Weasley gave a very brief explanation of why the points were awarded and why he supported Potter in not accepting the points. Bevins then stepped up and the last I heard he was discussing how to force the cup to show a Slytherin win without jeopardising their chances next year."

"Nothing they can do with the Headmaster standing by the points." Snape gave a shrug, then glanced at his house. "Do we accept the win?"

"Yes." Higgs spoke firmly. "Their arguements are sound, unpatronising and promise to make next year interesting...I suspect they'll deliberately lose both next year if we don't accept." Higgs glanced at Flint and then back at McGonagal. "Quidditch reserves? Gryffindor has a reserve team?"

"Students below the fourth year who are not on the house-team...a reserve team was formed just after Christmas...you'ld have to speak to Mr Wood to get the particulars."

"Let Wood know I'll be in touch." Flint's voice rumbled forth. "I want to know about this reserve idea, and it will give umpire experience to those who want it if the houses put up a reserve roster."

"Professor McGonagal and I will now leave you to the evening." Snape was moving toward the exit as his Slytherins bunched up to discuss the quidditch idea.

"I think there shouldn't be a reserve cup."

"Gloating rights..." Snape glanced speculatively across at his colleague. "Where did the reserve idea come from?"

"I am uncertain, but Ronald Weasley has been the mover and shaker who got the team put together, trained the team and kept them playing even though they are utterly thrashed by the house team every time they met."

"What are you thinking?" Snape eyed the woman suspiciously.

"I'm thinking of future prefects. Prefects, Quidditch and what an interesting collection the first years are promising to become. Why does Mr Malfoy go for Potter and Weasley?"

"Mr Malfoy made an offer of friendship which was turned down with an insult...that he's a Malfoy, there's a fair chance that he caused insult in his offer of friendship. If you want to try and prevent an ongoing feud I think you'll have to sit them all down and clarify the situation, along with a collection of ground rules for what they can, and may not, do and say in each other's presence. You'll have to prevent the slimy slytherin and death eater spawn insults from Weasley before you'll get any concessions out of Malfoy...you'll have to go through the school angle and if you can persuade Mr Malfoy to stop bringing up his father ever other sentance I will not be the only person who thanks you."

**XXXXXX**


	3. Chapter 3

"What's her problem?" Penelope Clearwater had given up trying to get a coherent answer from the bushy-haired girl in Gryffindor robes and turned instead for her answer to the two boys who flanked the girl.

"Snape, Binns and Sinistra all failed her." The black-haired boy gave a slight shrug.

"She's convinced that her life is over and she doesn't believe me that you only really have to worry about failing in OWLs and NEWTs." The red-haired boy seemed more than a little annoyed.

"You're not very sympathetic." Penelope was feeling her way forward in the conversation very carefully.

"We were sympathetic...initially." The red-head's expression turned sullen. "She's been like this for three days...even I don't mourn that badly over a Quidditch loss."

"That's..." Penelope fumbled helplessly for a tactful way to observe that Quidditch and exam results were not of comparable importance. "Why did she fail?"

"Well..." the two boys exchanged a look. "Snape's been failing her all year. Sinistra since the end of November and Binns...he started failing her only this last term. Hermione said they wouldn't dare fail her for such foolish reasons in exams and so she didn't...well..." It died away.

"What was the problem?" Penelope had blinked as she finally got names for faces.

"Her essays were feet over length." Harry Potter rubbed his nose and gently patted the girl next to him when she gave a convulsive sob. "The Professors who failed her were simply cutting her essays off at the required length and marking that...so she failed."

"McGonagal said she can resit the exams next September if she really wanted to..that was after she said that it wouldn't stop her passing into second year. Hermione started crying so the exam offer was made." Ron Weasley seemed every bit as baffled as his friend.

"Take her to Madame Pomphrey for a calming draught." Penelope stood up straight. "I'll be with Professor Flitwick for the rest of the afternoon, so bring her to his office when she's been calmed down." Penelope's expression was slightly crooked. "She would appear to require a Ravenclaw explanation for what happened."

"Thanks." There was a moment of hesitation and then the two boys somewhat ruthlessly hustled their friend off. It was moments like this that Penelope Clearwater was thankful that the majority of her friends were not male, they were remarkably careless about causing bruises. Hopefully Miss Granger really was a Gryffindor, it was unlikely that any Ravenclaw could recover from being failed by three professors for the same reason...it was certainly Gryffindor behaviour that ignored warnings.

**XXXXXX**


	4. Chapter 4

"Come-on." Ron shoved the chess board aside as he abruptly got to his feet.

"Where to?" Harry didn't move from his dark little corner, he found invisibility to be a familiar sanctuary from people who found his very presence as welcome as the pox.

"Hagrid's." Ron hastily turned back and tidied up his sqwauking chess pieces.

"Oh." Harry hesitated and then joined Ron in packing away the chess pieces, he ignored the sighes of relief which arose as the lid closed over them.

"Come on." Ron was employing his favourite tactic for avoiding trouble, sheer velocity, as he dragged Harry out of the Gryffindor Common Room, down multiple flights of stairs and across the lawns to Hagrid's cottage.

"Ar'ternoon." Hagrid emptied a big bucket of weeds into one of his bins before leading the way into the house. "Tea?"

"Yes please." The two boys dropped into chairs and managed to not notice the rock cakes until Hagrid shoved the plate in their faces after handing them a monstrous mug of tea.

"Harry's a Parseltongue." Ron brought the topic up firmly just as soon as the standard questions about health and day to day activities had been cleared.

"I...I heard abou' tha'." Hagrid's tone was almost hesitant.

"Yeah, well, could you get in a snake or two? Harry needs to practice speaking to them...and a salamander might be considered almost as good as a dragon...it breaths fire."

"Wyverns too." Hagrid's expression became very thoughtful. "Madame Sprout's got a rat issue in the greenhouse...students make it difficult to deal with them properly though."

"Do you know if the library has any good snake books? Particularly breeds of snake and how to tell them apart."

"'s got good dragon books...try that corner."

"Thanks Hagrid." Ron swallowed the rest of his tea and dragged Harry off towards the library. Ten minutes and a mountain of borrowed books later Ron dragged Harry to some quiet and distant corner where they could work in peace. Though Harry was significantly more preoccupied in looking like the books had nothing to do with him.

"Ron..." It was a wary word and stank of things neither boy wanted to get into.

"Think about it Harry." Ron slammed his last book shut and slumped backards in his seat on the floor. "You can speak to snakes. You don't even realise you're not speaking English when you speak to snakes, even though we all hear the hissing just fine. You're hearing voices that no one else can hear...and they're not even interesting voices."

"Oh." Harry flushed and then looked at the pile of snake books he'd been studiously ignoring ever since Ron had laid them out.

"Yeah, oh." Ron flapped a tired hand. "Now get reading. We know it's magical because it's turning them into rocks without biting them...though I don't see how a normal snake-bite could turn you into rock. Thinks humans are food...means it's a big snake. Doesn't eat rock...might be a smart snake. Hasn't got anyone yet...dumb snake."

"That's a contradiction." Harry gave a frown. "If it's a smart snake then I'd say there's someone involved who's preventing it from getting someone."

"So, smart snake, magical and very big. Sure we can find it." Ron buried his head in his current book and groaned hollowly.

"Where's Hermione?"

"Off reading something, somewhere." Ron's wave was rather dismissive.

"But..."

"I tried to ask her earlier, before I dragged you off to Hagrid, she told me not to be ridiculous and that it was a spell which was petrifying people."

"Oh." Harry grabbed a book at random and tried not to shudder as the book hissed at him. Books that used that sort of language shouldn't be kept in a student library.

They'd spent the entire afternoon fishing through the books and learnt a staggering amount about snakes. Unfortunately none of the books mentioned man-eating snakes with a propensity to turn their dinner into stone if distracted. It was disappointing, even if neither boy would admit it. They'd returned the books to the library with the souring realisation that they'd missed dinner and trudged back up to the commonroom where a beaming Hermione handed them a stash of food in a napkin. They'd accepted the food and the accompanying lecture about how they should have studied with Hermione, apparently the spells she'd found were fascinating. They'd excused themselves soon afterwards on the truth that they had already completed their essays for the week, Hermione had checked and approved them, and that they were tired. The last they saw of Hermione was her cheerfully digging into a book while curled up in a comfortable chair. Their dorm was empty and they settled fast.

"Why aren't you just letting this die away?"

"If we let it just die away it will become your humiliating secret, something that's dragged up whenever anyone wants to grumble about you. What else can you expect from Potter, he's a paselmouth."

"But..."

"'S not about how people view it, it's about how you make them view it...or at least that's what my dad said after McGonagal found out Bill could pick locks. She seemed to think he was stealing from everyone. Bill." Ron's tone was disgusted. "Dad got us all busy and we cooked up some marvellous, non-stealing things for Bill to do with it. It's one of the reason's why Gringotts hired him." Ron gave a shrug. "You might not like talking to snakes, but there's no need to make it a dirty secret people can use against you. Use it. Help Hagrid with his snakes. Ask Pompfrey about healing magic and parsel-tongue...there's tonnes of legends about them, so there must be one or two real stories." Ron was leaning back in his bed and trying to look disinterested. "Potion ingredient collectors would do just about anything if they could cut a deal with the snakes they milk for venom. Bill always said that venom collected from a sedated or dead snake is never as potent as the venom needs to be. Snape might forgive you for existing if you helped Hagrid supply him with better venom for potions...make a job out of it...they must handle the snakes at your zoo somehow...get trained up as a snake handler. You'd make a mint as a snake-charmer...better yet, set up as an assassin with super poisonous snakes...then you could get Malfoy." Ron's tone became rather dreamy by the end.

"That's hardly fair on the snake." Harry grimaced. "I don't even want to think how long I'd have to scrub it's mouth out for to make up for it tasting Malfoy."

"What about that spitting snake? It wouldn't have to taste him at all."

"They have a better sense of smell."

"Point." Ron frowned slightly. "A snake that can poison without biting, has no sense of smell and probably no eye-sight...our other snake is going to be more easy to find."

"So two impossible snakes to find and the twins are hailing me down as the all powerful heir who's off to plot with serpents the destruction of Hogwarts student body...through reversible petrifications. Does the majority of the student body actually think I'm that stupid?"

"Apparently."

**XXXXXX**


	5. Chapter 5

Professor Severus Snape was annoyed, or at least that was what he was admitting to himself. Severus Snape had a preference for the world to live up to his somewhat lowly expectations, and it wasn't. Potter of last year had been more or less exactly what everyone had expected. Quiet, but cheerful and fun-loving, with an atrocious lack of respect for the rules and an attitude which was rank with Gryffindorisms...though most people did not see the last as a bad trait the way Severus did. Potter of this year was more or less the Potter of last year, but there were differences, crucial differences. Last year Potter would have been devastated by the student response to his status as a parseltongue, but the boy wasn't. Potter had become quieter in the face of such antagonism, elusive and somehow forgotten, even Severus had found himself startled by the discovery that Potter was there. Severus had given the brat a detention for giving him such a scare, though his cited reason had been gross carelessness. When Severus forgot about the boy's presence for a period of the detention he'd roundly cursed the boy, once he'd remembered the boy was there, before sending him back to his commonroom. With the detention dealt with Severus had settled down in his most comfortable chair with his favourite book on Dark Curses with the intention of properly enjoying being annoyed, even if that meant he was ignoring the little voice at the back of his brain which whispered how often he'd wanted to be forgotten like that when he was growing up. The James Potters of this world not only had no wish to be forgotten, they actively went out of their way to ensure that no one forgot them.

"Severus...have you got a moment?" Minerva's voice came from the fireplace and Severus laid his book aside with a sigh.

"Come through, Minerva."

"Thanks." She dusted her robes off after stepping out of his fireplace. "Sulking?"

"No." Severus took the necessary moment to shelve his book properly. "What can I do for you?"

"A student gave me this." Minerva proffered a double fold of parchment which had its ends glued together. "It's apparently a blank diary, which I've verified. The student said that it's interactive, can pull you into memories...it was found down near the messages."

"I don't think I'll enquire as to why you didn't take this to the DADA professor first." Severus gave a thin smile at Minerva's sour grimace. "It was found recently?"

"He admitted he'd had it since before Christmas, but had thought it just a blank book."

"Potter." It was more of a curse than an observation.

"Severus." Minerva's tone was a definite reprimand.

"The brat has a talent for trouble, Minerva." Snape gingerly tipped the diary onto his desk and confirmed there was nothing else hiding either in the envelope, or in the diary. "Stinks of dark magic." Severus had elected to use a quill to prod the diary, he was rather fond of his current wand and he didn't want it to suffer the fate of his last two wands. "Someone needs to teach the brats that not everyone will worship at their grubby little feet and it may as well be me since I can't stand them." Severus paled as he flipped the diary over and read the embossing on the cover. "Quite, quite disgusting...even for me to view."

"But..." Minerva hoped her colleague had returned to the subject of the diary and was no longer speaking of students.

"Now comes the fun stuff." Severus used a pair of tongs to carry the diary into his classroom, where he dropped it on a desk in the geometrical centre of the room.

"Fun stuff?" Minerva had seen what Severus considered interesting, the prospect of something he considered fun down-right terrified her.

"We have wards, curses and some of the nastiest magic I've ever felt." Severus' smile was almost manic. "What isn't to consider fun?"

"I'm not even going to grace that with a response." Minerva gave a sniff. "Gryffindor."

"You think it not ambitious to believe I can take something the Dark Lord considers safe and make it benign, if not erased from the fabric of existance?"

"Just...don't work by yourself?"

"Of course not." Severus' wave was dismissive. "You are here for now and the Headmaster is undoubtedly gathering the other staff and coming himself since he knows when my experimental wards go up."

"Resources?"

"Hmm...Morgan's Wards, Bellingers...oh?" A cloud of hot pink was steaming up from the diary, the cause a handful of ward dust Severus had cast over the diary. "Maxim's I think...definitely a bloodward with that colour."

"No, no, Severus, that is a Fairy Ward." Gilderoy's dulcet tones was their first warning that the rest of the staff had arrived and the two senior staff blenched before they turned lethal glares on the Headmaster.

"Fairy Ward?" Severus Snape actually blinked.

"Quite lethal if you trip it, but simple to dispell." Gilderoy drew his wand as he nattered on, oblivious to the fact that all but Dumbledore had left the room...and Dumbledore was actually standing outside Severus' wards.

After Professor Lockheart was removed to St Mungoes for treatment, and his legal team had commenced negotiations with the hospital to determine how to pay for the man's long-term care, the student's became resigned to a steady stream of 'guest' professors who tended to lecture on whatever topic was their pet topic. Ron noted that though the second half of the year had been very fascinating, it had not prepared them in any shape or form for surviving their exams. Hermione was too busy melting down over the cancellation of the exams to say anything.

**XXXXXX**


	6. Chapter 6

"What's gotten into Hermione?" Ron was looking more than a trifle white around the gills when he joined Harry in a compartment near the rear.

"Not totally sure." Harry gave half a shrug. "She received an owl from McGonagal..."

"We didn't even have exams for her to fail last year." Ron tugged on the end of his nose. "Is she crazy enough to have demanded her own pet exams like she got last year?"

"Who knows." Harry gave a small grimace. "She's not happy about whatever it was."

"She bought way too many texts." Ron's observation was most of an hour later. Hermione had been by twice to 'check on them' but had claimed she was much too busy to sit with them.

"Hm?" Harry looked up from the chessboard and blinked his confusion.

"Hermione. Just yesterday. Diagon Alley. She'd bought masses of books before she even began to look at that tiger she calls a cat."

"And?"

"She was planning to do all the electives, given the books she bought, and I reckon she's been told no."

"McGonagal has elected to stand between Hermione and study and say no?" Harry was more than a trifle impressed.

"Not like she has much choice, half the classes share the same timeslot...which always struck me as unfair since Bill actually wanted to do Muggle Studies. He needed Ancient Runes so he had to pass on Muggle Studies."

"Oh, yeah...umm, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I dropped Divination for Ancient Runes."

"Tell me you're still doing Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Definitely."

"Grand...and sorry, but I...ummm." Ron had gone very red about the ears. "That muggle studies thing?"

"You switched out too?"

"Yup."

"Why? What happened to the easy ride? 'Fess up, Ginger!"

"It was Bill." Ron shot a terrified look at the door. "Swear this goes no further?"

"Ron." Harry actually glared. "I haven't even told Hermione that your improved study habits are because of prefect aspirations. She's been so proud of having been a good influence on us. Of course it's a secret...now spit it out before someone comes and blabs."

"Bill found out through some bloke he met at work that the muggles have professional chess."

"Err." Harry blinked.

"Did you know that some people make their living from playing chess?"

"Ahh, well..." Harry hesitated. "Not exactly...I mean yes, I'd heard of professional chess players...well one...he was Russian and Uncle Vernon was chucking a stink...not relevant. Anyway, you were saying?"

"Down in Egypt when we were visiting Bill...well, Bill was all appologetic but he asked me to play chess against this old bloke. I don't know what all it was about, but apparently Bill had said I was a decent player and this bloke didn't believe Bill. Mum wasn't too happy...she still isn't for that matter, but Dad said I could play." Ron hesitated. "It was an interesting game...I lost rather badly that first round. He promptly challenged me to a rematch...I don't think I won a single game against him." Ron gave a sudden grin. "I could beat McGonagal's chess set without a sacrifice this time...or at least not of one of us."

"Why's your mum so ticky about losing you to chess for an afternoon?"

"It wasn't just that afternoon." Ron leant forward. "I mean, it was meant to be just the single game, but it was every afternoon and evening. I'm playing correspondence chess with about three people and I've an invitation to some tournament in London next summer."

"So why Muggle Studies?"

"It's not wizards chess."

"Won't you need muggle qualifications after..."

"Dad's said he'll look into it...though he didn't say it very loud because Mum's not happy. Apparently if you request it there's a special course you can take if you do Muggle Studies from third year so you pass the appropriate things to graduate in the muggle world."

"Oh, wow." Harry gave a hissing whisper.

"I was thinking of starting a Chess Club...you in?"

"When? Oliver will skin me if it cuts into Quidditch."

"I was thinking saturday evening...just don't mention it to Mum."

"No fear." Harry had heard enough from Mrs Weasley when it came to the twins' plans for the future, he really didn't want to think about her opinion of Ron wanting to be employed in the muggle world. "Do you think Hermione would...everything? That's five extra subjects."

"We're talking about Hermione, Harry. Hermione...who does light reading?"

"Oh, yeah." Harry rubbed his head. "How could anyone do multiple classes at the same time?"

"Don't look at me. I'm not Hermione."

"You are a wizard though and you've a better chance then average of knowing something which might make someone able to be in multiple places at once."

"No." Ron shook his head firmly. "Not the sort of topic which is discussed at the Burrow. Or at least not the sort of thing that would let you take two classes at once."

"Well...yikes, she's back." Harry slumped down behind his hastily grabbed Potions text as Hermione came through the doorway. Even Hermione's hair looked furious. Ron and Harry exchanged one wide-eyed look before they became deeply studious until such time as Hermione departed again. Hermione wasn't prone to wanting their opinions on unspecified subjects when they were studying, and today of all days, they really didn't want to be asked for an opinion.

**XXXXXX**


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